Memory
by Lady Icaris
Summary: With the start of April, America muses over old and painful memories with the States. Oneshot.


America tilted his head back onto the couch head. He closed his eyes for a moment as he sighed.

"America? Something wrong?" A tan skinned teen walked into the living room and opened the closet to put away the large chainsaw in his hands. When he got no response he tried again. "Alfred?"

America looked over the back at the teen. "Ah, who are you again?"

The teen frowned. "I'm Oregon. The thirty-third state of your union as of 1859, remember?"

America nodded. "Sorry, now I remember. Pears and beavers. Weren't you supposed to be out logging with Washington state?"

Oregon closed the closet door. "Just came back, boss-man. Had to anyway, too many drunk loggers out there with chainsaws, never should have opened those breweries, and Wash is already worried over her Mariners team and depressed about the Seahawks, so she left early to go get drunk. Next thing you know, she'll be, ah, whatever. Makes me kind of glad I don't have an MLB or NFL team, but- hey! You changed to the subject!" Oregon pointed his finger at America. "What the fuck's wrong with you anyway. Usually you're all like 'Whoot! I'm gonna eat Japan's high score for sure this time, haha! And that's why I am the HERO!'"

America shook his head. "Nothing's wrong. I'm still getting over that cold."

Oregon nodded for a moment. "Yeah. That sucked. Well, I better go over to Canada's place and retrieve Washington from B.C. before she starts siding with the Canucks and the other teams up there next winter." Oregon started to whistle as he left America's house.

America shook his head. "Now why does he remind me of Canada? They're nothing alike. Ah well, what was I doing again? Right, bemoaning the lack of a rival superpower. No, that's not it. What is today anyway?" He dug around the piles of paperwork that surrounded the couch for a calendar. "Aha! I have found you, evil Invisible Calendarman! Now today is," America paused and paled "right. April 12th."

He leaned back again and sighed. This time, however, there were no distracting states in the room. Getting up, he set up a slow pace for the attic.

Up in the attic was a large chest under several sets of locks. Carefully working his way through layers of locks, America thought back to when he first locked up the chest.

"_No more. No more. This war hurt too much to ever repeat. I don't care how many bosses will want this. I will not allow this to happen again. Not like this." A slightly younger America closed the lid down and locked it up. Something about the chest gave him the creeps, like it was daring him to repeat the past already. "No. Not happening. Just no." He gathered up other locks and wrapped the chest in chains._

Alfred F. Jones opened the chest and pulled out a Fayetteville rifle. It was scratched up, and in some places too badly damaged to still operate. He sighed when he saw the name engraved on the side. _North Carolina. _It had taken a very long time for Jacob to forgive Alfred after locking up the more prominent – and moveable – souvenirs of the war.

In fact it had taken a very long time for the states in general to forgive him over taking and locking away their trophies and reminders.

"_I understand your anger, I really do. But we can't have this war hanging over everyone's heads for the next century. I am locking these up so no one's tempted to start this war up again." Alfred spoke firmly, despite his frequent coughing into a handkerchief. His uniform was barely hanging onto his thin frame._

_Alfred looked to the states with a fake smile as he pretended he did not see the blood now staining where he just coughed. The states weren't in much better health themselves, South Carolina sported a large wound that was patched under her gray and bloody Confederacy uniform. West Virginia glared at his brother as they stopped their brawling. New York was covered in blood, even his brown hair seemed to be permanently stained red._

"_They should pay for trying to-"_

"_No." Alfred cut Massachusetts short. "No, we should start working to repair the damage together."_

_America ignored the angry looks most of his northern states gave him, thinking that in a few days, they would see his point. He was tired. So very, very tired. And Lincoln's replacement was demanding a death tally._

_Stupid fucking war. He'd rather be a hero, preventing wars from happening. Not a hero trying to end them after too long._

_And he wasn't feeling to well. Too many people coming home unable to really work. Too many people not coming home alive, if at all._

Alfred had pulled out several different rifles and pistols and was working on pulling out the barrel of a Napoleon. He seethed at how Johnson had been overpowered by the northern state's demands to punish the southern states a century and a half ago as he tilted the chest over to complete the temporary task.

There was a knock at the attic trapdoor. "America? Oregon said you were acting funny. Is every- oh." America turned to see Virginia looking sheepish. "Sorry, I forgot that was today."

America shrugged. "It's been a hundred fifty-two years now. I was thinking of giving these back, since I don't really have a good enough reason to keep them locked up. What do you think, Edward?"

Virginia shrugged. "Whatever you say. I forgot these were up here, since a lot's been going on lately. I was just checking up since Oregon mentioned you being weird." He started back down.

Alfred was left alone in the attic again. Despite it being April, the storage space was getting warm, so he pulled off the bomber jacket. Along both arms left bare from coverage were several light scars, and hints of more under his shirt. He started to pull out old uniforms.

The first was one in good condition, regardless of the dust covering it. Checking the back collar, America nodded. _Washington _was written in a hurried script. A few places were darkened, as if there was a stain, but it was washed away, likely from the Pig War that Germany helped end.

"_Excuse me, but as a Union Territory, what am I supposed to do? I'm so far away from the battlefields down southeast." A girl, who looked very Native American, spoke up. She was rather young, just entering her teens, and was dwarfed by her Union blue uniform. Next to her, was Oregon (right?) in his uniform, nodding as if he agreed with the question._

_Alfred threw on a reassuring smile. "I need you, Washington-Columbia to man the military outposts in your backyard, since Britain's likely to try something over there. Oregon, I'm sending some recruits from California over to your place to help you, so you don't need to worry too much about taking the trip over east either. I need you guys to protect yourselves so that we don't have to be worried and distracted."_

_The embodiment of the Western United states nodded. California picked up his mining ax and swung it over his shoulder. "Well, I guess that my reputation preceded me enough hat I won't have to worry about the war reaching me, so I'll help protect them. If anybody who lives in my state wants to fight in the war, I'll let them, though. Since I'm that sure our side will win." He grinned. "__¡adiós!__ I'll send over gold when I find more."_

_America smiled at the states as he stepped on the train east. "Alright, you guys take care."_

Four more Union uniforms in good condition were pulled out. "Washington, was this one Oregon's? Yeah, and Oregon, Idaho, California, Montana." Alfred smiled for a moment before he refolded the uniforms into a small pile on the opposite side of the weapons.

Florida's Confederate uniform was pulled out next. There was only a few tears in it and one bloodstain. Alfred twisted around to find the weapon with the name_ Florida de America_. Finding the pistol, America placed it onto the folded uniform.

America tilted the chest again and continued to sort weapon to uniform.

He paused, pulling out Tennessee's uniform. Alfred didn't have to look into the collar to figure out who it belong to. The cloth was bloodstained to the point that the uniform's color was nearly lost. Parts of it were shredded beyond recognition. Large holes made the folding after the war difficult enough. Only one uniform was in worse condition, other than Alfred's own, Virginia's.

The cannon was Tennessee's through a purchase from Louisiana, he knew. So the sorting went well enough. Technically.

"_America! What the hell? If the President is serious, I will have to secede from the Union." Tennessee frowned as he rested on a pitchfork. "Because I refuse to actually get involved on either side, since my people are divided. Please, Alfred. Don't."_

_America hung his head for a moment. "Sorry, Adam. He's serious."_

"_Fuck you, America." Tennessee picked up the farming tool and stabbed forward. America felt the pinpricks bleed through the blue uniform as Tennessee walked away._

"_Damn it. I'm losing them one after another. And I can't really let them leave. I hate this war already."_

_Then America was standing in a battlefield facing several former Union states. Tears ran down his face as he aimed and shot at them. They did the polite thing, and shot back. One bullet stuck into his shoulder. He wished he had Texas on, but focused on his job._

"_After all, it's against the law to secede." Alfred ducked down. His knees hurt from supporting him all day in the sun. He felt blood run down his arms, his legs. He started to lose sensation in his left arm and was forced to make something to support the rifle._

_Soldiers were dying left and right. Gray uniforms, blue uniforms. Brothers, cousins, neighbors, childhood friends fighting each other. States against states._

_Alfred closed his eyes for a moment. _Britain must be laughing his fucking ass off at Alfred's failure to keep himself together. _The thought infuriated him, and rejuvenated his determination. He will succeed in keeping his country together. Even if he had to be the idiot playing the hero._

America pulled himself out of the memories of the pain. He several of the scars on him arms came from those battles. He rubbed his shoulder, remembering the pain when a midwife was pressed into helping the wounded. She pulled out the bullet and stitched up the wounds. It would be years later, when he realized that the strange habit of washing her hands saved him.

Downstairs, the fifty states gathered to talk.

"He was weird. I mean, yeah, we've got a bit of economic trouble, but not even the GD kept him this down." Oregon was repeating his story of how America acted earlier for the thirteenth time. After a few sentences, he would take a drink from a tall glass and complement himself on his brewing skills. Then he'd have to remind his listeners who he was, since they'd forget, and start the cycle again.

Virginia sighed and took away Oregon's beer. "It's April 12th, dumb ass. The day we Southern states tried to secede. Of course he's going to be less than his heroic self."

Alaska and Hawaii looked at each other. Alaska spoke first. "What was America like back then? I don't recall much of that period."

"You were still living with Russia. This was a couple? Well, a decade or two anyway, I think, before America's boss bought you." Montana flipped her dark hair over a shoulder before turning to Virginia. "So, tell us. I never did hear the whole story, since I was too far away."

Virginia sighed and whistled. "Everyone, sit down. It's story time. And since I hosted Richmond, I'll start first with the story of why the South was going to secede. And why America's up there in a darker mood than even the Cold War."

He coughed to clear his throat. "It really began before April 1861, when some states began abolishing slavery, as is their right by the tenth amendment of the Constitution. They started to pressure us to follow their example. However, at the time, slavery was cheap labor, and we considered it our little 'quaint tradition'..."

Alfred finished the sorting between forty-one uniforms and forty-one weapons. Only one weapon and one uniform was left. A Union uniform that was little more than rags, and a rifle. The last two items were placed into the chest that was now mostly empty. He then locked the chest under its original lock and started searching for empty boxes.

"And so, while technically, the war ended May 9th, 1865, it was several month later that hostilities were finally over. And we were all sick of the damn war." Virginia had take off his shirt to show one of the scars he had received defending the line between Richmond and Petersburg earlier and was in the process of putting it back on. "Of course, things didn't just go right back to everyone being all best of friends again. No, that didn't happen for a long time. I can understand how Germany felt after the First World War, having to pay back debts that weren't all his. Then again, we got off lucky in comparison. And now you newbie states know the story. And that's why –"

"Hey! Everyone's here! I was worried I'd have to call everyone over. Anyway, I have something for some of you guys. Now for those of you who didn't know, it's the hundred fifty-second anniversary of the Civil War. And I know it's terrible to celebrate that, but I can't just pretend that it never happened."

America held a bunch of boxes over his head as he climbed down from the attic. The top box went to Virginia. Boxes were handed out until Tennessee was handed a significantly larger and heavier box at the end.

"Well? Aren't you guys going to open them?"

Delaware opened his box first. Then reached into his coat pocket for a silver flask that carried marks from the Revolutionary War. "Well. I was not expecting this. Weren't these locked p t keep us from using them on each other?"

America laughed. "Yeah, but we've got scarier weapons now, so I figured that these oldies would likely not be used like I thought they would have been."

North Carolina picked up his rifle. "I knew there was a reason why I had an empty space in my gun rack."

America smiled. "Alright, now Tennessee, Virginia, I could make you guys brand-new replica uniforms, since yours are, well. You know. And North Carolina, New York, I do that for you guys too, since your uniforms' are all covered in blood and it's hard to tell what side you were each on."

The four mentioned states shook their heads.

Tennessee spoke after looking at each of them. "I think we want to keep these uniforms as they are to remind us of the past. And to keep you in check. And the President, if necessary."

"Hey, Alfred! I, California, bet twenty bucks that I could beat you in any CoD."

America sat on the couch, ignoring the piled of paperwork that surrounded him and started the gaming platform.

"Well, he's back to normal." Virginia muttered to West Virginia.

Author's Note: Holy crap. I finished something. Let me know what you guys think, and if I've got any errors or something. Since I've never seen any of America's states or territory's in the show, I'm just kind of making them up as I go along, kinda. I felt like Oregon's kind of like a mini-Canada in the sense that most people forget that there's a state between California and Washington, and that's assuming that someone remembers that Washington's there too. Which is kinda hard these days, what with a certain vampire series. And I really had to work hard not to put too much focus on the Western United States, since that's my home region and all, but not important to the story. And I'm rambling. Please tell me what you guys think.

Oh, and yes about the end of the war, in fact the last of the hostilities of the American Civil War was in fact November 9th, 1865 in Texas.

And I just realized the America could have been interpreted kinda like Russia with the the "everyone's leaving me" thing.


End file.
